


frigid

by debilitas



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Established Relationship, Flashbacks, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post BL3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:33:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debilitas/pseuds/debilitas
Summary: Fear tastes coppery, like old pennies. Like the blood in his mouth when he stood in the skeleton of Helios, body trembling in agony. If he thinks too hard, lets his consciousness drift, he can still feel the cold metal around his throat. A limb attached to him, but not his own.
Relationships: Rhys/Zer0 (Borderlands)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 112





	frigid

**Author's Note:**

> commission for layla!! thank you so much. another piece for zerhys nation u guys are always so nice

Rhys’ fingers wrap around the chrome handle of the faucet, and turn it harshly. The metal is cold, enough to sting the skin of his palm when it touches. Arctic water gushes onto the porcelain below, down the reflective drain, then his cupped hands.

Rhys lets the frigid water fill his hands halfway, then brings it to his face. Splashes the sweat slick skin of his face, presses the pads of four fingers against his eyelids until he sees fireworks behind them.

“Keep it together, Rhys,” he says to his own reflection in the mirror parallel. There’s a fresh scratch from gravel on his brow, oozing crimson. “Just another murder attempt. No biggie for a guy like you.”

Heart still pounding, he relives the sight of Katagawa’s blade in front of him. Concrete scraping the expensive material of his clothes while he scrambled backwards, clawed his way out of death’s reach.

Fear tastes coppery, like old pennies. Like the blood in his mouth when he stood in the skeleton of Helios, body trembling in agony. If he thinks too hard, lets his consciousness drift, he can still feel the cold metal around his throat. A limb attached to him, but not his own.

There’s a loud, heavy knock on the door behind him. Rhys jumps at least a foot in the air, hurriedly returning the faucet to its former position.

“H-Hey,” Rhys stutters out, combing a hand through his already ruined hair. “Be out in a minute, buddy.”

Zer0 has this irritating habit of clinging. Never straying too far from Rhys’ side, eternally hovering. It makes them an excellent bodyguard, but downright annoying whenever he needs a moment of privacy. Or isolation.

No matter how close they’ve gotten, Rhys doesn’t think he could endure the embarrassment of Zer0 seeing him like this. He’s the CEO of Atlas, a grown and somewhat respectable man. Pandora and its monster is far behind him, and he survived Katagawa’s numerous assassination attempts. He shouldn’t be so rattled, trying to catch his breath in a cramped bathroom like some punk on prom night.

There’s a resounding _pop_ when Zer0 opens the door anyway, slender silhouette filling the entrance to the room.

“Dude, occupied!” Rhys tries to shout, but his voice dies before he can complete the sentence. Clearing his throat, he adds, “Shouldn’t you be with the vault hunters? Exchanging maiming strategies or something?”

Zer0’s visor illuminates with a tentative _**?**_.

“Are you alright, Rhys / you look extremely distressed / flushed skin, sweat everywhere.”

They step forward, thick door swinging shut behind them, and boots heavy on the tile beneath them. 

“Perhaps today’s events / with Katagawa have left you / ...extremely distressed?”

Rhys makes a noncommittal noise, trying to dodge the subject at hand. Backs up until his spine hits the hard porcelain of the sink, and Zer0 stands so close he can see his reflection in their helmet.

The man reflected in the blank screen is very much distressed. Hair mussed, lips pressed together in a hard line, eyes red rimmed.

Rhys opens his mouth, then closes it. These kinds of things happen everyday, to the both of them. He shouldn’t be afraid anymore— Zer0 certainly isn’t.

Gloved hands reach across the short distance between them, taking hold of Rhys’ wrists. They trail down to his shaking hands, lacing their fingers together. The visor illuminates.

_**< 3** _

It steadies Rhys’ erratic heart. He sighs, smiles weakly up at Zer0’s covered face. Squeezes their hands, and it anchors him to the moment. Reminds him that he’s on Promethea — in a public bathroom, but still — and that he’s safe now.

Zer0 frees a single hand, lightly scrubbing the blood off of Rhys’ forehead. He winces, fresh wound still burning like a small flame. They touch him gentler then, gloved thumb ghosting over the skin. 

When Zer0 finishes, they lightly bump Rhys’ forehead with the front of their helmet. It’s a cold caress, but it spreads warmth across his chest. He’s learned to appreciate Zer0’s faux kisses, no matter how clunky they can be.

“You can relax, Rhys / there’s no reason to worry / I will keep you safe.”

It makes his stomach do somersaults in the most pleasant of ways. Rhys exhales, and it’s a much more even breath than he expected. Presses his face even closer to the unwavering visor, wrapping both arms around Zer0’s tucked shoulders and holding them close.

“Thanks, Zer0,” he says quietly. Leaves a brief kiss on their helmet, directly over where their mouth would be. 

They’re a good bodyguard and friend, an even better partner. For everything.

Zer0’s visor glows with another _**< 3**_. The proximity of the light makes Rhys’ eyes water, so he closes them tight. Let’s himself relax into Zer0, and they support his weight with ease.

Rhys might not be as fearless or strong as Zer0, but for the first time, he thinks he might not have to. Because they’ll always be there to catch him, keep him safe.


End file.
